Toph was the first one to recover from the dire news. Setting her jaw in a grim line, she cracked her knuckles into each fist.

“So what are we waiting for?” she asked brusquely. “Let’s take these things out. Sokka, what kind of sabotage ideas have you got in that sneaky brain of yours?”

His hand immediately went to his chin in contemplation. But before the appointed strategist could even begin concocting a plan, Huo intervened.

“It won’t do any good to disable the ships here. These won’t be deployed until after the comet. Ozai intends to use them as a means of ‘maintaining order’”, he explained with unmasked distaste. “The fleet we need to take out is currently stationed at another facility near Whale Tail Island. When they launch, they’ll begin a bombing raid starting in Gaoling, and from there they’ll cut a path of destruction all the way to Ba Sing Se.”

“Gaoling?!” Toph exclaimed.

At the mention of her home, all the color drained from Toph’s face and her resilient, granite demeanor crumbled into scattered dust.

She had left them without so much as a word of explanation or apology. She hadn’t said goodbye, or let them know that she still loved them. She had only wanted her freedom, never imagining that such independence could become so horribly permanent.

Her voice cracked in a broken whisper. “My parents…”

Everyone looked at her in mute sympathy, completely unaware of how deeply her emotional turmoil went. But Aang noticed something distressingly familiar in her voice. It was the same agonized loss he had heard that day in the shallows after her ordeal with Tanha, when he’d been powerless to do anything more than comfort her.

“We aren’t going to let that happen,” he assured her firmly. “We’ll think of a way to stop them.”

The blind girl nodded with solemn trust in his promise, her long bangs falling forward to hide the tears pricking at her eyelids.

“But we can’t do it here,” Huo advised. “We should get back to the others before someone sees us.”

In silent agreement, they got up and left, winding single-file along the narrow path back to Appa. When the track broadened, Aang slowed down to walk beside Toph. He wanted to say something to set her mind at ease, but after taking one look at stony face, words just didn’t seem good enough. So instead, he merely took her hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

To his surprise, she gripped it hard in return, and didn’t let go until they reached the bottom of the hill.

The flight back to the abandoned manor was tense and silent, and when they finally arrived, Hakoda, Bato, and Jee were waiting for them with maps already spread out across a large table in the dining hall. The lieutenant had filled them in while Aang and the others were gone.

Strategy after strategy was discussed, shot down, and rehashed again. Hours later, as the moon hung near the western horizon, and the candles had burnt down to little more than wicks in puddles of wax, Huo finally nodded in satisfaction and stood up.

“You kids should get some rest,” he stated with paternal finality. “There’s still a lot that needs to be done, and we don’t have much time. You’ll all need your strength for the days ahead.”

With sleepy yawns and sagging eyelids, the teens meandered off to their rooms, leaving Huo and Hakoda watching them as they left.

“It somehow doesn’t seem right to put so much on their shoulders,” Huo mused sadly.

“No, it doesn’t,” agreed Hakoda. “But you have to admit,” he continued wryly, “they did have all the best ideas.”

“That they did,” laughed Huo. “Your son is quite the strategist.”

“So is yours,” said the chief amicably. “Those two make a good team.”

“You should see them fight together,” replied Huo cheerfully as he wrapped his hands around a teapot to warm it. “It’s amazing.”

“What’s amazing is that they aren’t fighting against each other,” stated Hakoda soberly. “It’s a day I thought I’d never see; never thought I’d want to see.”

The commander nodded and poured out two cups of tea as he said, “It’s a day long overdue.” He handed a cup to Hakoda and held up his own.

“To peace,” Huo offered.

Fire Nation commander and Water Tribe warrior clinked their cups against each other as Hakoda finished the toast with a meaningful smile.

“And friendship.”

Sokka couldn’t sleep, and as he tossed and turned in his bed, he came to the conclusion that it wasn’t the forthcoming battle that bore so heavily on his mind. No, it was something else, something that under the current circumstances should have been trivial. It wasn’t though. If anything, it was more important than the fate of the world.

Heaving a weary sigh, he climbed out of his bed and headed for Zuko’s room, only to find it empty. Somehow, this wasn’t very surprising, and Sokka had a pretty good idea of where he might find the banished prince.

Just as Sokka suspected, Zuko was out in the courtyard, studiously putting the finishing touches on the multi-bagged harness for Katara. Sokka watched silently as Zuko began carefully filling each flask in the fountain to check for any accidental punctures in the leather skins.

Sensing someone’s presence, Zuko glanced over his shoulder, mumbling an unconcerned ‘hey, Sokka’ as he diligently continued his work. Sokka wasn’t quite sure how to go about this discussion, so he simply crossed his arms over his chest and got right to the point.

“You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

Zuko froze at the accusation for barely a heartbeat, knowing full well whom Sokka meant, but hoping that he really didn’t; that maybe he was misinterpreting his friend’s question out of guilt. Swallowing nervously, he deliberately placed another skin into the fountain, forcing his voice to stay calm as he answered.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, come off it, Zuko!” snapped Sokka, not believing the feigned ignorance for a moment. “If you want to go around and pretend that you don’t care about my sister, then fine, whatever. But don’t try to hide it from me. I already know the truth.”

Realizing the futility of any further denial, Zuko let out a short breath of defeat, slowly dipping another flask in the water.

“I don’t intend to act on it,” he reassured Sokka quietly, “if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“And why not?!”

The harness sank into the pool as Zuko spun around at Sokka’s outburst. He could’ve imagined a dozen different ways for the water tribesman to react to the knowledge that the banished prince of the Fire Nation had a thing for his sister, most of them involving a sharp boomerang and screams of ‘stay away from my sister, you angry jerk!’. So this reaction left Zuko utterly mute with shock.

“Do you think you’re too good for her?” demanded Sokka.

Recoiling at the absurdity of that idea, Zuko insisted hoarsely, “No!”

“That you’re not good enough?” the warrior pressed. This received no reply but downcast eyes, and for Sokka, that was answer enough. “Well, you’re not,” he declared. Seeing a shadow of dejection fall across Zuko’s face, Sokka realized that didn’t come out right, so he hastily amended, “Not not good enough, I mean.”

Now Zuko looked completely confused, and Sokka shook his head in frustration as he tried again to express himself clearly.

“You’re not too good for my sister, and she’s not too good for you. If anything…you two are just about perfect for each other. I mean, you’re both a couple of bossy neat-freaks, always looking out for everyone and taking care of them. You’re both stubborn, and over-emotional, and…”

“I’m not over-emotional!” protested Zuko.

Sokka gestured widely, his point proven.

“See? That’s exactly what Katara would say!” Noticing the frown blooming on Zuko’s face, and not wanting to get sidetracked from the original conversation, Sokka waved the remark away. “Look, all I’m saying is, there’s nothing wrong with how you feel. Katara cares about you too.”

Despite his best effort, and much to his dismay, Zuko was completely unable to repress the hope that filled his ensuing question. “Did she say that?”

“She doesn’t have to say it, she’s my sister. I can see it in the way she looks at you.”

Zuko turned back to the fountain and fished out the harness as he digested what Sokka had said. This wasn’t what he wanted…well it was, but he wasn’t supposed to want it. Katara needed to fall in love with Aang so he could enter the Avatar State, restore the reincarnation cycle, and save the world. This was a nightmare!

“You’re not even going to tell her, are you?” asked Sokka irritably.

“It’s not that simple,” said Zuko tiredly as he resumed his work, “I don’t expect you to understand.”

“Actually, I think I do understand,” replied Sokka gently.

Zuko paused, half-curious, half-apprehensive, but he kept his eyes focused on the harness as he wondered fretfully just how much of this wretched predicament the clever warrior had managed to figure out.

“It’s about Mai, isn’t it?”

Katara’s new harness very nearly went back to the bottom of the fountain for the second time that night, but Zuko grabbed it just before it slipped completely from his grasp. He’s been so wrapped up in how this would affect Aang that hadn’t even thought about Mai.

But maybe he should have. After all, she had died for him. ‘Great. Just what I need’, he thought bitterly, ‘more guilt.’ His self-depreciating musings didn’t get much further than that, however, because Sokka was talking again.

“I know what it’s like to lose someone you care about. And…I know how hard it is to let yourself feel that way about someone else again. I went through the same thing after Yue died. So believe me, I get it.”

Unsure of how to respond to this, Zuko merely nodded silently.

“But you also can’t expect Katara to wait around forever,” Sokka continued.

He purposefully avoided any mention of the fact that all of them would be fighting for their very lives soon, and that some of them may not survive. But that was a possibility that he refused even to consider. It was too real, too scary to voice aloud, so he focused on this problem as though everything was going to end well.

“I just…I don’t want you to wait too long to do something about this,” warned Sokka, “Because if you do, then you just might lose her to someone else.”

“I know,” replied Zuko solemnly.

Silence fell as Sokka considered whether or not he should press the issue. But he decided that he’d made his point. He’d said his piece, and since Zuko apparently understood the message, the water tribesman nodded in awkward satisfaction and left.

It wasn’t until the echo of Sokka’s footsteps faded away that Zuko finally admitted his forlorn strategy to the empty courtyard.

“That’s the idea.”